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Archive for the ‘Game’ Category

What’s the word I’m looking for when an oligarch at the helm of a company which invades the privacy of its customers and pushes for a dystopian regime of 24/7 surveillance of Americans gets his personal life exposed by the very privacy-killing society he eagerly advocates for the peons?

Oh yeah….TRUMPMA.

This is too funny. Text messages between Betazos and his Wall-imminent lover Dirty Slamchez were hacked and released to the public.

(fyi Betazos was sexting Sanchez months before he celebrated his wedding anniversary with his wife. It doesn’t sound like they were separated during his affair, as his publicists claim!)

Some samples of Jeff Bezos’ tender texts:

I love you, alive girl. I will show you with my body, and my lips and my eyes, very soon

“alive girl”

His non-alive women only felt that way in bed.

Does he show his love with his eyes independently, like a chameleon? One eye scans her tits while the other eye takes stealth screenshots of her email and location?

I want to smell you, I want to breathe you in. I want to hold you tight.… I want to kiss your lips…. I love you. I am in love with you

“I want to deliver myself to your doorstep”

You know what I want? I want to get a little drunk with you tonight. Not falling down. Just a little drunk. I want to talk to you and plan with you. Listen and laugh

The soy is strong in this one.

I basically WANT TO BE WITH YOU!!! Then I want to fall asleep with you and wake up tomorrow and read the paper with you and have coffee with you.

ALL CAPS!!! Betazos is in luurrrv. Aw such a romantic. It’s like he just now discovered how to write 8th grade love notes. This guy should be sexting about jamming his drone into her inbox; instead he’s fantasizing about building a life of domestic tranquility with her. What a goober!

Leave it to a soul-born beta like Bezos to fall in love with a botoxed has-been. How many years and billions had to accumulate before women started reciprocating his ardor and making him feel like a human man?

I love everything about you. I love that your last pic takes me completely out of my head. I am crazy about you. All of you. I need to smell and touch you. I want to hold you. I know you’re right for me. I know we fit.

I like it when you’re strong, and I like it when you’re vulnerable. Everything. The only thing I don’t like is not being with you. All of this is just straight from my heart. I love everything about you.

Bezos is really in love with his wallstress. It’s not the illicit sex that breaks his wife’s heart, it’s his emotional betrayal. Women can handle a cheating husband if it’s purely physical, but they can’t handle the loss of a husband’s love.

Cooing sweet nothings are ok if the man says them, in bed, after he’s fucked the cunt out of his girl. But not in text messages. Bezos failed the Jumbotron Test:

Every text or email or recordable instance of conversation you have with a girl must follow this simple rule:

If it were given a public airing, let’s say on a blog or a sports stadium jumbotron, you should feel comfortable with what you have written for the world to see.  You should not feel an urge to wince, because it will be clear to everyone reading it how alpha you are.  If the thought of someone other than you and your girl reading your permanently archived romantic exchanges makes you cringe with embarrassment, then you are doing something wrong that will eventually lead to your girl dumping you.

Jumbotron FAIL.

After gaymullato’s kiss attempt is denied by the first stringer, check out his awkward finger tapping on her shoulder. I bet those two stopped having sex after the kids were born. The sexlessness causality runs both ways: he’s a closet case, and she’s repulsed by his unmanliness.

Now Betazos can join gaymullato in the Jumbotron FAIL Hall of Shame.

You LOSE, Jeff. No prime for you!

The racy messages — which reportedly included a snapshot of Bezos’ junk

Complete with user reviews.

***

Reader comments:

Heather,

Perhaps the attraction came from the excitement of something forbidden, since she was the wife of a friend? Otherwise, I don’t get it.

I wonder how Sanchez’s husband feels about being cucked by the richest nerdlet in the world? Maybe not so bad, since Sanchez is well past the age of spawning any bastards.

Neither Bezos’ wife nor his mistress is worth a free drink, let alone 70 billion. That said, I’d give the nod to the mistress. She’s about a point higher on the 1-10 scale. That’s good enough for Betazos to fall head over heels!

From Paper Shuffler,

Imagine being the wealthiest man in the world and getting romantic feelings for some middle-aged goblina…
BAP was right… the elites really aren’t anything special are they…

Nope, and they HATE HATE HATE that we’re pulling the curtain back on their laughable pretensions.

Mob Barley,

The richest guy in the world
Went for a 49 year old chick

So little competition out there

It’s never been a better time to have freedom, testosterone, and Game.

Ripp,

his friend’s wife. pathetic weasel.

Yep, and P.K. Griswold explains why a weasel like Bezos did what he did:

This is exactly what I’m getting at, bros. Bezos reeks of OPTIONLESS BETA..

This guy’s got more money than god, but when he looks to cash in his newly acquired SMV chips, he buys the first thing that appears—his friend’s wall-impacted, mud blooded, tranny-ringer wife! (With whom they probably have dinner once a month.)

Why? Because she already knows him; he doesn’t have to cold open this brawd.

This is truly pathetic. Bezos may be a successful man, influential, wealthy beyond compare. But when it comes to front-holes, he’s a thoroughly blue pill, pedestal polishing, shaking-in-his-boots beta. Full stop.

Sometimes I wish I was a woman because it’s ten times easier to fleece a thirsty goon’s empire than it is to build your own.

All the money in the world can’t save a game-less, charmless, needy betaboy supplicant from dating “up” to a middle-aged trap show.

Smart women know this, and like PK wrote it’s ten, no ten million, times easier for a woman to fleece a beta billionaire than it is to build her own wealth. The ease of this is precisely why these women fuck and fall in love with much less wealthy but sexyasfuck challenging jerkboys on the side.

From PBR Streetgang,

Paid $69,999,999,980 more than the going rate.

He’ll probably wind up stalking her after she leaves him for a retired football player.

From California Caucasian,

I’ve managed to score more Grade A just owning a house. Filled the kitchen of said house with shiny pots and pans, can make a killer omelette… the ass flows. Being able to nominally cook anything = panty drop…

How can a rich rich oligarch do so poorly? I’m just a poor fuck who won’t buy drinks, but I’ll make you a cocktail at home…

guest replies,

Thank you my boomer.

Broke: Skittles man

Woke: Boomer omelette man

Bespoke: Sending most of the population of California to New Auschwitz

Corinth Arkadin,

LOL LOVE LETTERS

I wrote poems to my women:

Roses are Red/Violets are Blue/I Wanna Eff You/Every Which Way/Including The Butt

newlyaloof close this post out,

Amazon meet MAGAzon.

One more shiv…

***

Thought: maybe Bezos is an open borders globohomo fanatic because he thinks the millions streaming in from south of the border are all Lauren Sanchezes like his loverlady?

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Do men hit the field with wings anymore? It seems in this anti-social, SJWed, MeScrewy age the wingman institution is struggling to survive. Do men even sarge? Solo? I see a lot of slores gallivanting around after 5pm, but not nearly as many men.

A teaser I’ve dropped on chicks which has proven surprisingly effective requires the use of a wingman. It’s a line delivered with an attitude that you’d describe as “cocky-asshole”, so be prepared to back up your bluster with the necessary ZFG to bat away the girl’s indignant reaction.

I walk up to the girl and say, “My buddy over there says you were checking him out. Maybe try not to be so obvious, he spooks easily.”

This works no matter what she was doing.

  1. Not checking either of you out. Now she’ll protest her innocence and/or your arrogance, which opens fruitful avenues of flirtation.
  2. She was checking out your buddy. Wave him over, because she’s ready to talk. Ideally, he’ll have a relevant reply at the ready, such as, “Ah man, I didn’t want to get dragged into this” or “damn, the pressure is on”.
  3. She was actually checking you out, in which case she’ll likely play along or suddenly turn shy. You could go many different ways with this. You could affect an air of sudden realization, “Oh wait, that was ME you were checking out. Well, this is awkward”. Or you could act the part of the disappointed friend. “Now I have to go over there and break the bad news to him”.

This is classic Assume The Sale Game, with a winged twist. The idea is that instead of lamely enduring two rejections from mutual inaction, you work together to ensure at least one of you gets a hot lead.

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A chick was giving me a hard time about my motives for talking to her. (Confession: they were impure motives.)

I replied: “Unlike Harvey Weinstein, I won’t offer you a movie role for your company.”

Verdict: an effective flirtation coup de grace.

You’re welcome.

(Game principles in action: Self-disqualification, outcome independence)

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Hackett To Bits pithily reveals a behavioral tic that indicates a woman is deeply, truly in love with a man.

Geez check out bikini chick Tatiana and her letter. Talk about trying to qualify herself to a dominant man, every sentence she writes is an apology for possibly boring him.
Let that be a reminder: never be deferential and never apologize.

Do hot chicks dig murderous jerks? You bet!

You slave and struggle to earn a keep
Give roses and vows and profess love so deep
But rarely a night do you share your sleep
with a woman who isn’t a 20 stone heap
While murderers bask in the lust of lithe sexy babes
and no effort spent to earn their unfolding labes
It all comes back to a question you evade
“What if all I am is a sexless chump to raid?”
YOU ARE BETA

Now let’s look at those love letters from Tatiana:

Women have a lot of compassion for murderers….yet so little compassion for betaboy incels. Funny, that.

Hackett To Bits is right. That letter from Tatiana to the killer “only she can understand” reads like a long form apologia for being a lovestruck woman intruding in an alpha male’s safe space. I mean, this line alone…

“If you’ve gotten this far without throwing my letter in the trash – thank you

…reads like a woman scared to death that her 20-year marriage to the man she loves is on the brink of ending. Except this is a posture of supplication from a woman to a complete stranger who just happens to be in jail for murdering his pregnant wife and two daughters.

She underlined “thank you” to emphasize her gratitude that a murderer had read that far.

When was the last time a doting, supportive, beta male feminist received a letter with anything underlined in it that didn’t say “STOP CALLING ME”?

Gratitude.

It’s what’s been missing for so long in America, and particularly from American women.

Make Amerimuffs Grateful Again.

“You to tears yet? That was my goal! Kidding, of course.”

She’s so afraid to lose his interest and approval. Would she ever be this afraid to lose the interest and approval of a law-abiding beta male?

HAHAHAHAHAAAAAA

She was so nervous her joke would fall flat that she promptly clarified for him that it was a joke.

“(I would love to tell you more about me. I’m extremely lonely and can use a friend)”

Again, have you ever heard a woman talk like this to a reliable, law-abiding, salt-of-the-earth man? She’s throwing herself at a murderer, begging for his attention. She YEARNS for his friendship *wink wink*. The non-murderous man, at best will hear a, “I can’t do Thursday, but get back to me next week and we’ll see”.

“My brother was incarcerated for a long while.”

The genetic matrix here is fascinating. Are the genes which predispose to criminal men the same genes which, in females, predispose to loving criminal men?

“I hope I’ve put a smile on your face.”

I hope I haven’t bored you.
I hope you’re still reading.
I hope you will be my friend.
I hope I can send you more half naked pics of myself.
I hope you like me.
I hope you will fill my belly with your psychopath champions.

What the typical beta male in her life hears instead:

“I hope you don’t think I see you that way.”

“Please know that there are strangers out there (like me) who care about you.”

Incels would love to know there are random hotties who care about them, too, but they aren’t very lovable. They need more blood notches on their belt before random hotties will care about them. Killer preselection.

Hackett To Bits is spot on. This love note is a woman ENDLESSLY QUALIFYING HERSELF to a dominant man with whom she has fallen in love.

Self-qualification — or supplication — is the number one sign that a woman is deeply, truly in love with a man.

If a woman’s words to you are the equivalent of “I AM NOT WORTHY”, then she is your lovething to do with as you please.

Every angle of your Game should be directed toward provoking self-qualification from a girl, because once she’s in that psychological head space she’ll subconsciously imbue you with much higher romantic value than you would have as just another man who wants to get in her panties.

The corollary to this, as Hackett wrote, is never qualify yourself to a girl. Never defer to her, never apologize for yourself, never get defensive when she presses your buttons, and never try too hard to impress her.

The simple act of NOT being a supplicating man pushes a girl into the role of the supplicating suitor. Script flipping is essentially turning the usual seduction dynamic — qualifying man, judging woman — on its head: qualifying woman, judging man. This is the way of the desirable man.

It’s interesting peering into the soul of a woman in love. You readily observe that such a woman sounds and acts EXACTLY like a run-of-the-mill beta male. That’s not an accident. Love for an alpha male confuses and intimidates women the same way that lust for a hottie confuses and intimidates beta males.

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Today’s Game tip comes courtesy of reader SiluetteSign. In my educated opinion, it has potential.

What does a girl’s face look like when she is soaking wet with Gina tingles?

Here is a quick way to find out how.

First try and irritate the girl. Ways of eliciting shit tests have been discussed extensively in the betasphere so I won’t discuss them here. Of course when she is irritated she will hopefully shout at you or raise her tone of voice. At which point in the ultimate state of ZFG zen you look her and calmly assert yourself : “don’t shout at me”. Then you can give her a towel to dry herself.

That’s the face of Gina tingles. She doesn’t even have to shout at you. You can just make her think she did. Use with caution.

Lately, I’ve noticed an increase in girls shit testing men on their appearance. It used to be girls preferred shit tests that targeted an insolent beta male’s social status, his sexual desperation, or the way he carries himself. (For example: “Are you always such a dork?”, “Take a picture, it’ll last longer!”, etc)

But something changed in the ginegeist; now girls are going for the attempted killshot shit test by insulting a man’s appearance or looks. I think this has to do with the masculinization of American women (feminine women abjure crass insults) as well as a general tenor of rancor and bitterness between the sexes that has developed as a by-product of trending anti-socialization.

That is, men and women are spending too much time away from each other with their romance substitutes (porn, vidja, social media, cats, yoga, purple saguaros), and not enough time flirting and understanding what makes each sex tick. PoundMeToo is only exacerbating the division.

This retreat from the flirting field and ignorance of the opposite sex’s specific desires and needs has led to a pandemic of battlecunts psychologically projecting onto men the pain the women would feel from suffering an insult to their looks. Women now believe, mistakenly, that men are as shattered by a slur against their appearance as women would be, so women have adopted the looks-based shit test as their go-to ice breaker-slash-alpha male filter.

It’s not a flattering look on women.

Furthermore, the killshot shit test (or killshit test) is what one would predict to increase in frequency of use among women living in an alpha male dead zone. Where women are surrounded by supplicating soyboys (soyplicants), women are more resentful, and therefore less interested in cultivating the finer courtship tactics of the demure lady.

These women just want to see beta blood flow.

This is why SiluetteSign’s shit test buster has so much potential, especially when used against girls who go straight for the looks insult with the purpose of instantly causing the man to slink away tail between legs or to lash out impotently.

“Don’t shout at me” deftly defuses a killshot shit test. One, it doesn’t bother addressing the substance of the girl’s slanderous attack. It’s as if her insult didn’t register with you, and all you took away from it is that she was screeching like a banshee.

Two, it takes what could be a devastating disqualification and flips the shit, so that she now has to defend herself from a less coarse yet more deeply cutting insult which implies she is unfeminine and low class. You know which kind of women shout a lot? Yeah, your garden variety SWPL chick does not want to be associated with that crowd.

The worst response a man could do would be to defend himself against the insult to his appearance. You will never logically arouse a woman, and that goes double for entreaties which attempt to sell your looks to her.

I’ll tell you a related convo I had recently with a girl:

BATTLECUNT: “That [X] makes you look [bad thing] and [badder thing].”

SLAYER OF BATTLECUNTS: “Oh wow, [bad thing] AND [badder thing]? Flattery will get you everywhere. But next time say it, don’t spray it.”

Own the girl’s insult, turn the tables on the girl, redirect the convo to your liking.

These are the fundamental rules for courtship in 21st Century Post-America.

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A Test Of Your Game Knowledge

Is this an example of…

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Bumble Game

Mr. Meaner shows what a cleanly executed chat game looks like, incorporating multiple Game tactics and concepts and moving the convo quickly onto closing the deal.

Thought I’d post this Bumble exchange I had as it’s a good example of a lot of game techniques. Hope I don’t get stuck in mod.

Her: Hey hru

Me: gd u
(Ed: I am so sick to the back teeth of chicks and their lazy-ass openers that I just fight fire with fire now)

Her: I’m alright what you upto?

Me: having lunch; looking at your pics. You?

Her: I’m home sick unfortunately. Haha you like what you see?

Me: i did until you said you were sick (disgust emoji)

Her: Oh

Her: Well that’s kinda awkward

Her: What you got planned for the weekend?

(Ed: neg leads to her asking me my plans. Lol)

Me: thinkin of buyin’ a new car. You’re clearly gonna be in bed all wkend

Her: Oh awesome what sort of car

(Ed: Cue lengthy para about all the made up bullshit she’s doing this weekend)

Me: doing much tonight?

Her: nothing planned think my housemates staying in so might watch a movie, you?

Me: yeah just relaxing at this point. Might open a bottle of something or have a few beers

Her: that sounds amazing. You could go all out and eat cheese too

Me: (eyeroll emoji) fine you bring the cheese

Her: haha it’s a date. What part of town are you?

Enjoy my bros

Well played. I give this Game three out of four Birthday Cats.

There are a couple of highlights from Mr. Meaner’s banter that are worth explaining in full.

  • Bumblegirl’s total word count is 71. Mr. Meaner’s word count is 56. That’s about a 9:7 word count ratio, which is heading in the direction of the golden give-and-take ratio described in Poon Commandment V:

V. Adhere to the golden ratio

Give your woman 2/3 of everything she gives you. For every three calls or texts, give her two back. Three declarations of love earn two in return. Three gifts; two nights out. Give her two displays of affection and stop until she has answered with three more. When she speaks, you reply with fewer words. When she emotes, you emote less. The idea behind the golden ratio is twofold — it establishes your greater value by making her chase you, and it demonstrates that you have the self-restraint to avoid getting swept up in her personal dramas. Refraining from reciprocating everything she does for you in equal measure instills in her the proper attitude of belief in your higher status. In her deepest loins it is what she truly wants.

  • Meaner wasn’t a stickler for syntax. Abbreviating words is the slangy equivalent of Skittles for her birthday. ZFG all the way (Zapped Furburgers Greased).
  • The neg (technically a Takeaway or Indicator of Disinterest) prompted her to ask about his weekend. Chaser-chasee script flipped.
  • “thinkin of buyin a new car”. Minor, but effective for its spontaneity, DHV (demonstration of higher value)
  • “you’re clearly gonna be in bed all wkend”. Vheeky jerkboy bantz. Sutble but powerful disqualification. She hears, “this guy doesn’t think I have a life”.
  • Her: “you could go all out and eat cheese too”. Funny shit test. Most betas would balk and get defensive. Meaner passes it easily with the eyeroll and opportunity for a weekend slamfest by telling her to bring the cheese.

Well done.

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